It was a new twist on Murphy’s Law. Now that the case was behind her and life was basically back to normal, now that Cheri thought she didn’t need him anymore, of course she spotted Thomas all the time among the sea of bobbing heads in the metro. It was a tormenting reminder, the pain of which was only slightly beginning to dull.

One morning, she sat in the back of the metro train where the train benches faced each other. She wasn’t particularly paying attention to those around her, but as she kept her head down staring at the floor, she spied cowboy boots from the corner of her eye. She didn’t want to glance up, but couldn’t stop herself.

“Good morning,” Thomas said, sitting right across from her, his deep voice husky and strong, hitting her hard in the chest, right by her heart.

“Are you following me?” she snipped.

“I am,” he admitted boldly, “and from the look and sound of it, you’re in need of a little…company.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re awfully bitchy, Cheri,” he said, winking and smiling from ear to ear. “Seems you need something—or someone—to, uh…take the edge off.”

She eyed him skeptically, searching inside herself and questioning things. Is he flirting with me, or just trying to get in my pants? She wasn’t sure she’d argue with either, but she only offered him a stern glare in response.

“Just hear me out. I need to cop to what a jackass I was the last time you and I were alone.” He gave her a half shrug, as if admitting his wrong made it all okay.

“Did I ask you to apologize? Did I even ask you to talk to me?” she fired back. She crossed her arms defensively across her chest, knowing full well that she sounded like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum. She listened but she was boiling inside, furious that he thought he could actually call the shots. Who does he think he is, telling me when to have dinner, when I need sex, when we need to say goodbye, then trying to take it back? Jackass is putting it lightly, buddy!

“The truth is, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind,” he said with a chuckle.

“Not for lack of trying,” she murmured acidly.

He smiled again, then extended his booted foot to her shin and stroked it lightly.

She jerked her leg away.

“Yeah, you’re right. It hasn’t been for lack of trying,” he agreed, “but everything about you, from our meeting to the hurricane to my inability to let you go, has been a total surprise.”

Cheri turned her head away from him.

“Tough crowd,” he mumbled.

“Aw. Poor guy, after you signed a statement and everything,” she mocked.

“Look, I’m not asking for a medal or anything, but I know it helped,” he countered.

Cheri gasped so sharp and loudly that all nearby riders on the train collectively turned their head to stare at her. “You know? So, my attorney discussed it with you?” she whispered.

“No,” he replied coolly. “I looked up the case status online. My attorney helped me draw up the statement, all that legal jargon and shit, but if I had asked her to check the case for me, she would’ve charged me. Google’s still free, right?”

Cheri made the mistake of remaining silent once more. The magnetism flowing between them was heady and undeniable, and it was getting to her. She feared she would make a fool of herself if she sputtered another syllable, and the last thing she wanted to do was throw herself at him at the back of the train; her want for him could easily trump her dignity, and she couldn’t give in to it.

“We never did get to finish that dinner at Carmine’s,” he said easily.

“If that’s an invitation,” she snapped, “it’s a weak attempt.”

“Okay,” he answered patiently. “Cheri Holt, would you have dinner with me at Carmine’s, tonight? Things didn’t go so well the last time. We should fix that, have a do-over.”

Cheri stared at his boots for a moment, deliberating. Then, in a last blast of anger, she demanded, “Why do you wear those damn shit-kickers if you don’t even like them? You said you have money. Surely you can go to a shoe store.”

Thomas belly-laughed, a deep laugh that lasted quite a while.

Cheri almost smiled in the wake of his amusement, but she was not ready to give up her insult just yet, and she didn’t want to let him off the hook so easily.

“I wear these boots because of…you,” he finally managed to answer.